Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. All original characters in this story do belong to me, however.

AN: Before I get into any of the technical details, this story was written for the FanNoWriMo 2008 challenge over on Live Journal, which means that, whether I finish it in the month or not, this story is going to be long.

Now onto the technical details. This is the first in a series of long AU Harry Potter FanFics. They are a magical creature AU series…with a difference. I haven't seen anyone use this kind of creature/being in their stories before, so I hope I do the idea justice. The series will also eventually be slash and any objections to that will not be listened to. The slash won't start immediately, though, since in this part of the series, Harry is only twelve/thirteen and he'll have to adapt to his new situation as a magical being first.

(Also, can I please just ask you not to review this with requests for me to update my other Harry Potter WIP. That is being worked on, but it's slow in coming since I've lost quite a lot of interest in that story lately.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first instalment of Serpens Armarum.

Serpens Armarum

By Evandar

Chapter 1

The Beginning

The Basilisk toppled to one side, its massive head sliding off the blade of the sword Harry had pulled out of the Sorting Hat, while the fang that had pierced Harry's arm splintered and snapped off. Harry staggered, dropping the sword with a loud clang. His legs felt like jelly, and they gave out under his weight. Harry was struggling to breathe; he couldn't seem to be able to get enough air into his lungs. Spots of black were dancing across his vision, and what colours he could see were swimming. He could barely make out the form of Tom Riddle, looking triumphant, and something red soaring around him.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," Riddle said. His voice was soft and soothing. He made it sound like he almost cared about what was happening to Harry. "The poison of the Basilisk is the most deadly venom known to man. It will paralyse you, blind you, and begin to digest you from the inside out." Riddle's shadowy form crouched down inches away from Harry, and a cold, long-fingered hand reached out to tilt Harry's face up. Riddle was smiling. "It will spread through your body," Riddle continued, "using the beating of your own heart to kill you faster."

Harry opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. It felt like lava was running through his veins instead of blood. He managed, just, to gather enough strength to pull the Basilisk fang out of his arm. It wouldn't save him.

"This is the end," Riddle murmured. He was so close, and he was speaking his cruel words so tenderly. "You're going to die here, Harry Potter, and Ginny Weasley's last chance of survival will die with you."

Something in Harry's gut twisted sharply, and a scream tore from his throat. Riddle laughed and pulled away, letting Harry collapse sideways to curl up on the Chamber's stone floor. Harry bit down hard on his lower lip. He didn't want to give Riddle the pleasure of hearing any more of his screams. The pain was excruciating; it was white-hot agony that burned through every part of him, from his eyes to the tips of his fingers.

Then, all of a sudden, it was over. Harry lay, panting for breath, with his eyes screwed shut, as the pain faded into nothingness. Riddle was still laughing, and the high pitched sound made Harry grit his teeth as it grated on his nerves.

Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and there were strange colours superimposed over his vision, but he could see enough. The diary was lying open inches away from his face.

He pushed himself up slowly, ignoring Riddle's cry of confusion. He didn't know how he had managed to survive, but he did know that he had to finish this. He had to finish Riddle; destroy the diary. Ginny was running out of time.

He grabbed the broken off Basilisk fang and with one swift move, he stabbed it straight though the middle of the diary.

"NO!" Riddle screamed, but it was too late. Blood, venom and ink spurted up out of the pages and began to spread across the floor. Riddle's form convulsed once before exploding in a flash of brilliant white light. Harry dropped the fang and relaxed, flopping back down onto the cool stone floor.

Fawkes landed next to him, regarding him through beetle-black eyes. The weird colours Harry had noticed earlier made Fawkes look like he was glowing red and white. "Thanks," Harry mumbled. His voice sounded hoarse and croaky. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Fawkes gave a happy little trill that soothed Harry's still-aching muscles. Harry smiled faintly and pushed himself up again. He crawled over to Ginny, ignoring the pitiful remains of the diary.

The weird colours over her image were changing from blue and purple, through green, to yellow and red and – just over where her heart was – white. He reached out to shake her gently, and was pleased to feel that she was warming up again.

"Ginny?" he called out to her. "Ginny?"

She groaned softly before her eyes snapped open. He helped her up slowly. She looked up at him in confusion before realisation hit her, and she burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed. "I…I tried to t-tell you b-b-but I c-couldn't say it in front of P-Percy! I d-d-d-didn't mean to d-do it. R-Riddle t-told me to. Riddle! Where is he? I c-can r-remember him coming out of the d-d-diary and…and…I'm s-so sorry!"

He patted her on the shoulder awkwardly. He felt incredibly uncomfortable with her crying, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He edged away from her and began to collect things from around the chamber. He picked up his wand, the diary, the fang, the Sorting Hat, and the sword he had pulled out of it.

He handed her the Sorting Hat and smiled when she looked up at him in confusion. "It's over now," he told her quietly. "Come on."

She sniffled softly before bursting into another wave of hysterical tears. "They're going to expel me!"

Harry sighed and wondered if shy little Ginny Weasley had always been capable of making so much noise.

He led her out of the chamber, past the rock fall and into her older brother's waiting arms. Ron held her tight as she wept into his shoulder, shooting Harry a worried look over the top of her head. Harry just shrugged.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Ron asked, ignoring the obliviated Lockhart's stupid comments.

Harry looked around, searching for another exit, only to see Fawkes hovering by the entrance to the pipe. The phoenix was waving his long tail feathers at him, and Harry suddenly remembered what Dumbledore once told him about the bird. "I think he wants to give us a lift up," he told Ron, indicating the phoenix with a wave of his hand.

"Do you think it'll be able to lift us?" Ron asked.

Harry smiled. "Fawkes is a very special bird," he said. "He'll manage."

The flight was short, and soon the four of them were on their way to Dumbledore's office. As they approached, Ginny's loud sobs thankfully decreased until by the time they had reached the gargoyle, she had gone silent.

Dumbledore's office was occupied when Harry pushed the door open. The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, and Snape and McGonagall sat on either side of him. All of the Weasleys were in the room. Mrs Weasley was weeping hysterically into her husband's robes, while Mr Weasley hugged her tight. Their sons looked tired and pale.

That all changed when they looked up to see who had entered.

"Mr Potter!" McGonagall cried. Her normally stern expression had been replaced with one of absolute shock. Snape looked equally stunned for a moment, before his usual sneer reappeared. Dumbledore just sat there beaming at him, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. Fawkes soared across the room to sit on his lap.

At the same time as McGonagall's cry, Mrs Weasley had shrieked "Ginny! Ron!" and lurched forward to gather he two youngest children into her arms and hold them close. Harry looked away from them, feeling awkward once more.

He walked forward and placed the Hat – he'd taken it from Ginny again after they had left Myrtle's bathroom – the sword, the diary and the fang on Dumbledore's desk.

Snape leaned forward curiously to study the fang. The look he shot Harry when he straightened up was indecipherable.

"I believe there is an explanation for all of this, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said quietly. He too was looking at the fang, and the way the residual venom on it was burning into the surface of his desk.

So Harry launched into his explanation. As he spoke, his audience was silent apart from the occasional gasp or choked cries and sobs from Mrs Weasley. When he got to the part where he'd realised where the entrance to the chamber was, he couldn't help but shoot Dumbledore an angry look. "Myrtle died when you were the Transfiguration teacher here, Professor," he said. "When her ghost appeared in the castle, why didn't you ask her how she died? Why didn't you ask if she knew anything? You might have been able to catch Ginny opening the Chamber before things got too bad, if you had."

Dumbledore offered no answer. He merely waved his hand and murmured "Continue, please, Harry." His eyes had stopped twinkling.

Frustrated, Harry continued. When he got to the part where he'd killed the Basilisk and been bitten at the same time, he was interrupted.

"Dare I ask how you managed to survive, Potter?" Snape asked coolly.

Harry simply shrugged. "Phoenix tears, Professor," he lied. "They have amazing healing properties."

Snape sneered at him. "I am aware of that, Potter," he snapped.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Fawkes interrupted them with a calming trill of song. Harry looked at the bird, to see it watching him. He could see the knowledge in its eyes – Fawkes, of course, knew he had lied – but he could also see that the bird was not about to betray his confidence. He wasn't even sure if it could.

The rest of the story was considerably easier to relate and took far less time than the rest. By the time he had finished, Dumbledore had a thoughtful look on his face. Then, surprisingly, he changed the subject altogether.

"You will be pleased to know that you will not be expelled, Miss Weasley," he said. Ginny looked up from where she had been ensconced on her mother's lap.

"I'm not?" she asked. Her big brown eyes were wide with hope and her voice was shaky.

"No," Dumbledore assured her with a kind smile. "Although I hope that you will be more careful in the future and report any strange occurrences to a member of staff immediately."

She blushed furiously. "Yes Professor," she said.

"Now," Dumbledore said. "I think a celebration is in order. Severus, please alert the kitchens and have them prepare a feast. But before that, perhaps it would be best if you escorted Gilderoy to the Hospital Wing. Minerva, please show the Weasleys to one of the guest suites near Gryffindor tower. I believe they need some time with the children. After that could you alert the other teachers, and have the students gather in the Great Hall. Harry, my boy, stay behind, please."

The occupants of the room sprang into action, McGonagall leading Ron and the other Weasleys out of the office, Mrs Weasley still clinging to Ginny. Snape swept out after them, Lockhart scurrying nervously next to him.

Harry sat down in a chair Dumbledore conjured up for him and sank back into the soft cushions. He was tired; physically exhausted. He had realised, part way through his account of the events down in the Chamber, that the Basilisk's venom was still having an effect on him. Random muscles would twinge, and his chest and stomach ached. Somehow, he knew that it was nothing life threatening, but it still worried him slightly. He wasn't going to tell Dumbledore, though. He didn't like the way the headmaster was studying him.

"First, I want to thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "You must have shown me a great deal of loyalty down in the Chamber, to be able to call Fawkes to you."

Harry shrugged. He hadn't recounted the exact details of his conversation with Riddle – nor did he care to – and Dumbledore was clearly fishing for information.

Dumbledore sighed at his lack of an answer. "I must ask you once more, Harry, if there is anything you need to tell me," he said. "If there is anything about tonight's events that you did not want to say in front of an audience. I am willing to listen, if that is the case."

"No sir," Harry said softly. "There isn't anything."

Dumbledore frowned. "I would have thought that, upon meeting Tom Riddle, you would have a few questions, at least."

"None, sir," Harry replied firmly.

Dumbledore nodded. "You are excused then," he said, sitting back in his chair. He was still frowning, and he sounded so disappointed, but Harry ignored that. He stood up slowly, and made for the door. Dumbledore's voice stopped him. "You will be awarded a Special Services to the School Award for your actions tonight, Harry," the headmaster said. "And both you and Mr Weasley will receive two hundred points for Gryffindor House."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said politely, glancing back over his shoulder. He hoped Dumbledore didn't call him back; he just wanted to get a shower and go to bed to get some rest. "Sir, is there anything specific you would like to ask me?"

It was Dumbledore's last chance to ask an actual question instead of just fish for general information. Harry saw the old man hesitate. He saw him open his mouth as if to say something, only to close it again and wave Harry off. So Harry walked out without looking back, and set off for his dormitory.

He wouldn't be attending the feast that night. He was too tired and aching to bother.